three years

Today my baby boy is 3. You may wonder why I call him my baby... well, he is just that. Those of you who had your first 2 kids close together will understand a little. You see, my oldest wasn't a baby very long. No sooner had he turned 2 than he was suddenly big brother. No more rocking to sleep, no more bottles, pacifiers or snuggles. Part of the problem was, I was determined to help him grow up, not realizing in my "new mommy" state, that babies do that quite fine on their own... The other part of the problem? He's Mr. Independent and never has been that cuddly, lovey type. So along comes September 20, 2005 and I'm heading in to the city (an hour's drive) for my scheduled 8 a.m. Cesarean. The Dr. comes to talk to me, and comments that she believes we'll have a red-haired child. Which, of course, is preposterous because neither I nor Tech Guy has red hair. We proceed with the surgery, which goes well, other than the fact that I thought I would be permanently paralyzed after the spinal... but I digress... And the little baby that emerged at 9:30 that morning had red hair. I kid not. And to me, red hair, at least the dark auburn type or the strawberry blond type, is beautiful... yet I never dreamed I would be the mother of that hair! But what I never realized is the personality that emerges with that hair color. Noodle has always been intense. He screamed for the first 7 months of his life - colic, they all said. "Nothing we can do, he'll outgrow it." I took him to doctors, chiropractors, massage therapists, switched him to the bottle, switched him to goat's milk... and nothing helped, until one day 7 months later, I realized he didn't scream so much anymore. But he carried that intense, yet sensitive, live-life-to-the-fullest attitude. He is also my cuddle-bug. I still rock him. No, he doesn't have a bottle or pacifier anymore, but he does have a blanky. He's still my baby. And you know what? I think he will always be...